Bullet the Blue Sky
by sheyki
Summary: In some instances, the one who knows a person best, doesn't know them at all. This is one of those instances. The biography of an OC, written by someone who's barely met her.
1. Prologue

It is at the end of my days that I publish these notes, these volumes of facts and insights that have created in me a madman. These notes, which consumed me to the point of ostracizing my own wife and my only son. These notes, which I have devoted well over half my life to compiling. These notes, which tell the tale of the single most enigmatic and simultaneously straightforward woman to have ever walked the face of this earth. These notes, which chronicle the life of Wendy Alsouth.

I will not waste time introducing myself. My life is of no consequence in the grand scheme of this story. No, I am merely a humble narrator and observer, and not a particularly talented one, at that. I have no place in Wendy's history. I am neither a friend of hers, nor her kin, nor even an old flame. I do not doubt that she bears no recollection of the brief encounter she and I shared over two decades ago, but it is on that night that I shall begin this memoir, for it was on that night that my obsession with her began.


	2. Run Through the Jungle

I don't know what came over me. I don't know why I did it, and I'm sorry, I swear. But none of that mattered anymore, I guess. I should never have given that information to the Drachman army, and I shouldn't have run away after doing it. It wasn't like nobody knew; they found out quickly when the Drachmans gave me away. And I ran. I just took off, and somehow managed to make it through the Western countryside and into a forest. I could hide out here, set up camp, hunt for my food, and manage to live a decent life out in the wilderness. Maybe I could make it to Creta, they'd harbor me. I could start a new life, meet and marry a nice woman, have a couple kids, and die happy. That was doubtful, though. There was no way I could get away from whoever Central sent to pursue me. I had caused the deaths of sixty-eight Amestrian soldiers with the intel I had leaked, I was a murderer, and Führer Grumman didn't take kindly to having our boys slaughtered like that. I was left hoping, against all odds, that they didn't send General Alsouth.

I had stopped near a spring for my fourth night on the lam. It was risky to drink this water without boiling it, but I had no other choice. I scooped some into my hands and slurped it down quickly before it flowed out, feeling the cool liquid run down my chin and neck to my shirt. I was tired, but there was no time for sleeping. I was still pretty near the edge of the forest, and I would have to keep moving deeper in to keep from being caught. I wiped my face off with the back of my hand, and glanced over my shoulder warily when I heard the sound of a snapping branch. I jumped, snapping to alertness, at the sight of two icy blue eyes peering at me through the darkness. They were obviously inhuman, judging by the height and the placement, and when the beast's lips curled back in a snarl, that cemented my suspicions. A wolf. I had the gun I had taken on a rock behind me, and I squatted down to fumble for it, my eyes not meeting the wolf's, but not pulling away from its form.

My fingers met the butt of the gun, snatching at it desperately. If I could manage to kill the animal, I could be eating well for several days. If not, it would rip me to shreds. The creature advanced a step, then stopped dead. I saw its eyes look upwards to something behind me, and it was then that I realized how warm the gun was. I hadn't touched it in a few minutes, and the cold air should have cooled it off significantly by now, but the metal felt as if I had just taken my hands off it. I continued to feel around on the rock, hoping that it was nothing. Up the grip, across the trigger, over the… Shit. My eyes went wide at the sensation of human fingers holding on to the barrel of the pistol. That meant the wolf in front of me wasn't just a wild animal, it was a half-breed, Noah. And the fingers belonged to General Alsouth. I was fucked.

I got to my feet quickly, leaving the gun. It wouldn't improve my chances any. I had heard about Alsouth, but hadn't worked with her. All I knew was that she was a crazy bitch, prone to giving out death threats like a candy shop owner might give out his sweets to good children, and strong, to boot. She wasn't the youngest general in Amestris for nothing. She smiled at me in the dark as my eyes met hers. I barely made out her shoulders rolling and her fists clenching as she stood. She spoke, her voice laden with a predator's sneer.

"You better run, boy. I'm gonna give you a little mercy. If you can make it to the other side of this forest before morning, you can go free. I'll escort you to Creta and let you just walk away. If you can't, it's a bullet in your head." She leaned across the creek again, grabbing the gun and tossing it, underhanded, to me. I barely caught it. "You've got a full chamber, right? Take it. If you can kill me, you can go, too. I've already got a pardon written up for you, signed and everything. It's three hours to sunrise, so get your ass moving, boy. Run."

I stood there shaking for a few terrifying moments. I didn't want to die - that's why I had betrayed my country in the first place. It wasn't until Noah growled low and snapped his sharp, white teeth at me that I even felt that I could move. I clenched the gun tight in my hand, and stepped across the creek, careful to keep my distance from Noah. The wolf-dog was still, only turning his head to watch me run.

No matter how tired I was, I was determined to make it out alive. I didn't care how much of a trail I left behind me, not as long as I could reach the edge of the forest in the few hours of night I had left ticking by. I managed to find a deer trail not far from the creek, and followed it until I met its end in a small clearing, where I paused to catch my breath. All I could hear was my own panting, and the rapid thump of my heart high in my chest. Adrenaline-loaded blood gushed through every vein in my body at a rate I'd never thought possible. I felt like a time bomb about to explode, but I had to keep running.

Behind me, I heard a tree rustle, a twig snap. Leaves crunched under thick-soled boots. Shit. Alsouth had already caught up, and it didn't even sound like she had been trying. I'd heard she had never let anyone she was tracking get away before, but I was confident I could be the first. I took one last puff of air, then was immediately tearing through the wilderness again. There was no more trail to follow, and the foliage in its full thickness left me with stinging gashes on my arms and face. I shoved my fears of being lost to the deepest depths of m mind, and instantly they sprang back up, becoming some kind of out-of-repair jack-in-the-box, refusing to leave my head without terror. With no compass or knowledge of the forest's geography, I could have been running away from my goal without even guessing so. I was thoroughly fucked.

My parents had always reminded me that the only thing I could ever do was try my best and nothing more, but less and less it seemed to me like my best could ever out do Alsouth. I wished more than anything that I could be back at home with them, good ol' Mom and Pop, sitting around the dinner table, a heaping plate of Mom's mashed potatoes in front of me. It had been an eternity since I had last eaten a hot meal. My stomach rumbled at the thought of home cooking, and my mind soon followed with teasing thoughts of warm baths and downy mattresses.

I skidded to a stop as I came to the base of a steep ridge, and clamored to the crest for a view of the area. My spine tingled as my ears picked up the sound of Alsouth and that hellhound still hot on my trail. Now she was running. Noah bayed, and the general echoed him with a cruel, laughing howl of her own. Climbing further up the hill, I began to see the path they were cutting through the underbrush. I could barely make out the glint of the gold buttons on her uniform under the moonlight. I had only a few seconds to survey the forest before they captured me right there and then. I could barely stop my gaze from whipping back over my shoulder for long enough to get a good look at the lay of the land. It seemed from there that I had only two or three more miles to go. Perfect. On the horizon, I could imagine the signs marking the end of Amestrian territory. I was almost out.

Knowing my heading made me twice as confident. Alsouth, I had heard, was a woman of her word. There was no way she'd kill me if I did manage to escape her, I thought as I carefully but hastily picked my way back down the hill. I'd be home free, free as a bird, bird is the w…where was my handhold? I had been gripping tight onto roots and small saplings as I made my descent, but somehow I'd found myself in a bare patch. I began to slide, and quickly scrabbled back up with my heels. I spotted the jagged remains of a tree, rent in two by a boar or maybe a bear, about six feet down from me as I laid there gasping for oxygen. It was a sharp drop, but letting go was the only option I had left.

"Bottoms up."

I let my hand release the small tree it was clinging to and felt myself start to tumble forward. I barely kept my backside from winding up over my head; the seat of my pants practically burned away from the friction of being dragged along the ground. As I caught sight of the stump, I rolled to the right and stretched for it, and my fingers locked onto its rough bark. Shards of wood bit into my hand, but there was no way I'd be letting go any time soon. Leaves crunched behind me under six pounding feet, and I hunted desperately for the next tree down. Dead ahead was a huge old pine, and beyond that, the ground leveled. I pulled myself to a stand and stumbled towards it, once again nearly losing my footing. Easily I was able to grab onto it, no trouble save for driving the splinters deeper into my flesh. I took a few frantic moments to regain my breath, the bolted yet again.

From there on out, all I faced was more of the same terrain - trees, trees, and more trees, with a small stream burbling through them. I was quicker now, despite my exhaustion, the knowledge that I was nearly free all the fuel I needed. I didn't hesitate any longer, even when I fell and scraped my elbows, even when I ran through plants I knew would leave me with a stinging rash in a matter of minutes. I didn't care, I just wanted to live. Alsouth and Noah drew nearer still, and I her command him to split off and flank me. No matter, I was so close. I was panting like a dog, and every inch of my body was on fire, but I could do nothing but sprint straight forward. Hardly a hundred yards away I sighted bare ground through a gap in the foliage. With a silent signal from the general, Noah barreled at me, his maw snapping at my ankles. I flinched away, determined not to be taken in by her. Just as I felt his razor-sharp teeth graze my calf, I collapsed on soft grass, the forest that had become my nightmare behind me.

I heaved a sigh. Finally - finally- I could call my ordeal the past. Sweat poured down my wounded face despite the chilly temperature, and I pulled up the hem of my torn, dirtied wife-beater to dab it away. I winced when I touched a particularly nasty gash on my forehead, the warm blood seeping into the fabric as General Alsouth came to crouch beside me. For the first time, I got a good look at her. She was no more than twenty, with long, dark auburn hair and piercing green eyes. Her features were haggard and war-weary shadows of what a woman her age should possess. Between her thin, arched eye-brows, small wrinkles had formed from every scowl she'd worn over the course of her short life, but there was some kind of inexplicable beauty in her. She smirked at me, and I managed a weak smile in return.

"Congratulations. You're a free man, Elliot Bishop."

I nodded, unsure of what to say. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a map and a small fold of bills, and pressed them into my hand.

"Here," she continued. "A map to Creta and enough money for food and lodging to get yourself settled. I'll have you removed from the wanted list, and you won't be bothered by anyone. My address is on the back of the map. I expect a letter when you're ten miles within the border."

She stood, stretched, and was gone, just as calmly as she'd come. Noah's tail wagged softly as he followed behind her. I clamored to my feet and waved.

"Thank you, General! I'll never forget you!"

I heard her snort a little laugh, but her back stayed turned towards me.


	3. The Letter

And from that moment, I was a man obsessed. I hardly remember my arrival in Creta, not until the first night I was able to find a cheap inn to sleep at. I recall myself sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall and smoking my fifth cigarette in a row. I pulled the map from my pocket, turning it around in my hand. Alsouth had scrawled her address, barely legible, on the back. "3 Kettleston Avenue," I read aloud, letting the words knock around inside my head. I stood finally, my legs numb and shaky. On the little desk by the window, there rested a paper sack, filled with the things I'd bought earlier with the money the General had given me. Stationary, stamps, envelopes, and a chocolate bar. I sat down in the rickety wooden chair in front of it, and reclined on its back legs to watch the small town asleep outside my window. And I thought. I thought about what I would write in my letter to her. Should I keep it short or would it be appropriate to carry it on? And would she respond? Would she and I become like pen pals, or would I never hear from her again? I yawned loudly, sleep creeping up on me. If I didn't jot something down soon, I'd fall asleep right where I was. I forced myself to lean forward, and fumbled in the topmost desk drawer for something to write with. My fingers lighted on a pen, and I gave it a small shake for good measure as I removed it, making sure the ink would flow. I started simply, keeping a close eye on the strokes of my pen. The ink was thin, fading in and out, leaving some places almost invisible. It didn't bother me much; my words and their meanings were still intact.

I stopped after a lengthy hour, shoved aside all the crumpled drafts of my letter, and read it over for the final time:

"Dear General Alsouth

As per your instruction, I am writing you because I have reached a town ten miles within Creta. You have my deepest appreciation for sparing my life that night, and I will never forget your kindness. I have one last request to ask of you. If you are willing, would you please tell me about yourself? I am very curious to know more about you. Again, you have my thanks.

Warmest regards,

Elliot Bishop"

Satisfied, I sealed it off in an envelope to mail in the morning, crawled back into bed, and drifted off.


End file.
